by Sophia Gray
“I want you,” she began carefully, choosing her words like they were weapons, sharpened for precision, “to respect me. That means letting me make decisions about my own life, Chuck.”
“Isn’t it our life now, though?” Chuck argued back.
“No,” Maya replied without a single moment of hesitation, stepping forward so that she closed the space between their two bodies, tilting her chin down to look him in the eyes. “It’s mine…it’s….it’s a part of my life, not yours. It’s none of your business.”
Chuck was quiet a moment, twisting his mouth to the side in a slight grimace. Maya hated that. She wished he’d just get pissed like a normal person instead of just doing this passive aggressive bullshit. Even though it’d scare her, maybe it would be better if he’d just yell at her, scream his lungs out, get in her face, get red-faced and mad. At least then she’d know where she stood. Instead, Maya was always terrified by default whenever she had to disagree with him or disappoint him, doing something that would make him unhappy or at least fail to make him happier.
“It could be my business, you know, if you’d let it. You’re the only reason, Maya, that it’s not. You’re the only thing standing in the way. Why don’t you let me get to know your life better, huh? Why don’t you let me see your past?”
“Because he’s a part of my past that I would rather keep separate from my present,” Maya explained, the words spilling out of her like water out of a spring. But she felt the sick sensation of desperation start climbing its way up her throat, filing her mouth with brackish bile. She swallowed it down, her throat working hard to clear the taste out of her mouth, even as the rest of her body remained still, frozen on the spot, staring down at Chuck. “I’m…I’m sorry,” she said with a sigh, feeling herself deflate as she spoke the apology, effectively accepting defeat. Oh, well. She had used up all her strength for the day, and she couldn’t afford to dip into the allotment for tomorrow.
“What’s so bad about your past?” Chuck asked casually, as if it wasn’t the stupidest fucking question she’d ever heard. That’s not fair, she berated herself as soon as her anger started to fade. It’s not stupid. He’s a good person. He’s whole. He’s undamaged. He doesn’t understand people like you.
Maya sighed again and reached up to pull her hair down from the tight bun she’d collected it in earlier, letting her red locks cascade down around her shoulders. “There’s a lot of things…there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me,” she said softly, brushing the random coppery strands of hair out of her face, pushing them behind her ears out of habit.
“Like what?” Chuck replied.
Maya smiled, trying to break the tension between their two bodies. “Like how stubborn I am,” she said, a teasing tone to her voice. Chuck took the bait, smiling back at her rather than pushing the issue further.
“Come give me a hug,” he said, reaching out his arms in invitation for her to crush herself against his chest. Instead, she leaned in and kissed him on the top of his head, brushing his hair back from his forehead.
“I’ll get dinner started,” she said, turning away from him to march off into the kitchen.
She’d keep her secrets safe inside of her like a thousand knives embedded in her chest. If she pulled them out, she might bleed, she might gush and gush and never heal. But as long as they were deeply inserted, away from anyone else’s prying eyes, she could go on. She could pretend to be a person. That was the way her life was going to go, as soon as she got this one last thing out of the way.
Maya was going to say goodbye to the little girl who’d been chained up in a dark cellar, cut into again and again by a man who didn’t know or care that she was human, too. She was going to finally leave that part of her life behind, after one last, prolonged look.
She wasn’t going back to the city to save a girl, not really. She was going to bury one.
Chapter Four
Maya took the train into the city. She’d told Chuck that she was taking a cab, but there was no way she could justify spending that much money when it wasn’t necessary. Chuck was different that way. He’d grown up with money, or at least, that was what she assumed going off of his childhood pictures. It was very different for Maya. She never spent money on anything that wasn’t absolutely crucial.
She watched from the windows of the train as the trees and bushes and open plains transformed into low, flat buildings, which then transformed into tall, long ones. Maya felt a huge lump form in her throat as the minutes ticked by, growing larger and larger as the city overwhelmed the landscape. The city was a big black cave of dangers as far as Maya was concerned, and it seemed darker, even though it was still midday by the time she arrived.
When the train slid to a stop, she waited until all the other passengers in her car moved out before she got to her feet, reaching up into the overhead compartment above the seats to grab her stuffed suitcase. She didn’t know how long this case was going to last, so she’d packed for about two weeks. If it stretched longer than that (God forbid, Maya thought), she’d just go to a laundromat.
Before she could head for the exit, her phone’s notification went off, signaling a new text message. She pulled out her cell and saw it was from Arsen. “At train stop. Are you there?” So he was waiting on her. Great. Just great. There was no possibility of any extra time preparing herself to deal with him, then.
Maya sighed deeply, clutching hard at the handle of her suitcase as if it were an anchor, and headed off the train into the crowd of people bustling around in search for their families and friends on the platform.
She could feel him before she saw him. That’s the way it always was with Arsen. He had an aura about him, a force-field of energy unlike anybody else she’d ever met. She turned around, looking for him, but then a second later, a pair of familiar, broad hands landed on her shoulders, squeezing lightly before pulling away. Arsen.
Maya turned back around to face him, plastering on a fake, overly polite smile in the process. “Hey, how are you?” she said brightly, as if he were an old acquaintance from high school she hadn’t seen in years rather than an ex she’d spoken with very recently.
“Good,” Arsen said. “Really good. How was your train ride?”
“Eh, it was fine,” Maya said with a shrug, her face muscles already starting to ache from the effort of maintaining her smile.
“Let’s go home,” Arsen said a moment later, taking the suitcase out of her arms, ridding her of her anchor just when she needed it the most.
Maya felt her face screw up in confusion, hurrying to follow along after Arsen, whose long legs were hard to keep up with. “Home? I called a motel near downtown. They have vacancies. I figured I’d just…”
“No, no, no, no,” Arsen said, shaking his head. “That’s no good. Why do you want to waste money on that when I’ve got a place right here where you can stay for free?”
“It’s not about the money,” Maya said tersely, feeling her irritation level rise already, even just two minutes into an interaction with Arsen.
Arsen stopped walking, turning to face her. Maya felt her face heat up. They were standing so close to each other, much closer than she liked to stand next to anybody, honestly. But she tried not to show any of her discomfort on her face, keeping her expression bland and blank.
“I have a spare bedroom. You’d be a lot more comfortable and able to focus, and besides, this way we can work on the case day and night,” Arsen said with a shrug, as if that automatically canceled out any of the other reasons they shouldn’t sleep in the same place.
“It’s…it’s inappropriate,” Maya said in response, averting her eyes to stare over Arsen’s shoulder, looking at anything other than his eyes. “I have a fiancé now, you know.”
Arsen was silent, but out of the corner of her eye she could see him swallow forcefully, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down in his throat.
“Congratulations,” he murmured in response, clapping her on the shoulder as if they were
old baseball buddies. “That’s…I’m really happy for you, good for you.”
Maya nodded back at him, but somehow she couldn’t manage to force another smile. It felt too…wrong. She knew what Arsen was thinking. All those years together, and he had never proposed. They hadn’t even talked about marriage, but here she was a little over a year after they’d broken up, and she was already planning a wedding. She felt a little guilty about it, thinking that maybe Arsen even felt a little hurt by the rapidity of her actions, but goddammit, she deserved to have a life, didn’t she?
“Anyways, your fiancé doesn’t have anything to worry about,” Arsen said, beginning to walk again, his steps coming down hard and fast on the pavement beneath their feet, outpacing Maya so that she trailed behind him. She sped up to match his pace, turning to look at him and seeing that he was chewing on his bottom lip. Evidently, he wasn’t as confident as he was trying to sound, and that gave Maya a little more confidence. Maybe she could talk him out of it and manage to stay in the motel.
But…he did make good points, right? The case was what mattered, above all else, and what was the point in even coming here if she wasn’t going to maximize the amount of effort she spent trying to get into the mind of the killer? If she stayed in a motel, she’d have to spend at least an hour each day on the subway, to and from Arsen’s office, and that was a waste of time that the kidnapped girl couldn’t afford.
She was just about to voice her agreement when Arsen spoke again. “I mean, your fiancé isn’t that insecure, right? We’re just friends now, right?” He flashed a smile as he looked over at her, bright and brilliant, almost blinding. He always used to do that when he was trying to get what he wanted out of her. In the past she was usually so charmed by it, thinking it was adorable, like he was a naughty schoolboy talking his way out of the principal’s office. But now, it only infuriated her, making her ball her hands up into fists, swinging her arms harder at her sides.
Maya was tempted to stay at the motel just out of spite now. But Arsen had backed her into a corner. No matter what she said or did, he was going to get what he wanted, in one form or another. If she told him that she wasn’t going to stay with him now, after he’d said that, it’d be like she was admitting that her new relationship was flawed, and that was entirely unacceptable.
“Fine,” she spat out, feeling about as annoyed as she’d ever felt before in her life. But whatever. She’d deal with this just like she’d dealt with everything else. She wished she’d sounded a bit more casual about it. Arsen probably knew how irritated she was, which only annoyed her even more. But she just sped up, walking faster, heading in the vague direction of downtown and turning whenever Arsen instructed her to.
She’d just have to avoid letting Chuck know about this. He acted unbothered by the entire situation, but men were men, after all. They were possessive and protective and often very unwilling to understand nuance. She had no intention of doing anything inappropriate with Arsen, but that didn’t mean that Chuck would trust her. Better to just keep things under wraps until the case was over.
“This is the place,” Arsen announced after about fifteen minutes of brisk, silent walking. “I’m on the bottom floor,” he said as they stepped into the building. He unlocked the front door of his apartment and swung it open for Maya, who hesitated for a second before walking in, looking around at her surroundings. It was a lot more depressing than their old home together, that was for sure. She figured it must be cheaper. It wasn’t easy for a single person to live in the city on their own. Arsen flicked on the lights, and Maya could see a thick layer of dust over almost every surface in the living room, practically filling the air like smoke. Jesus, this place needed a woman’s touch. “You been staying in the office at night or something?” she asked without thinking. She’d wanted to maintain a certain degree of distance with Arsen, act professional the whole time. But she was just so curious. She couldn’t help herself from asking about his life now.
“Um, yeah, pretty much,” Arsen admitted as he locked the front door behind them, stepping past Maya into the kitchen. “You want something to drink? Water?”
“I’ll have some whiskey if you still have it,” Maya said, again her tongue moving of its own accord while her brain took a vacation. But whatever. The words were out there, and there was no sense taking them back now. Maya resigned herself to the fact that she was going to regress a little bit while she was in the city. It was only natural. For her to be as healthy and normal as possible, she needed to stay out in the country, where things were safe and simple. As long as she was in the city again, she’d need to drink just to hold on. It helped her think; it focused her thoughts by burying her emotions deep inside of her. That was what she needed.
In any case, Arsen didn’t look surprised. “I got some, sure,” he said casually, going into one of his cabinets to take out an almost-empty bottle and pouring out the rest of its contents into a wide shot glass for Maya.
She walked over to stand next to him in the kitchen, accepting the glass from his hand. Their fingers brushed together slightly, Maya’s skin prickled where it came into contact with Arsen’s. She quickly downed the whiskey, relishing the sweet burn of the alcohol as it went down her throat, grimacing a little at the after-taste. This was cheap stuff, but it would get the job done.
“Want some scotch?” Arsen asked, grabbing a nearly-full bottle from his liquor cabinet and waving in front of Maya.
She just nodded, handing her empty glass back to be refilled with more alcohol. This went down smoother, but it affected her more immediately, filling her fingers and toes with a numb buzzing sensation that she had missed sorely during all those months of sobriety.
“You must be starving,” Arsen said, opening up the refrigerator and pulling out large containers full of food. “I made some stuff earlier. I thought you might like it.”
Maya poured herself some more scotch and walked over next to Arsen to look at the options he’d laid out in front of her. It was pasta and chicken, her favorite. He’d remembered. But somehow she didn’t feel warm and fuzzy about it. It scared her, sending a cold chill up her spine. But she faked a polite smile anyway. Somehow, she felt like she was in a silent war with Arsen, and the battleground was her own expression, her own emotion. If she gave ground and revealed that he’d successfully shaken her up, he’d win, which was completely unacceptable. Don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you upset. Don’t let him see that you give a single fuck at all, she silently coached herself, nodding at Arsen to wordlessly tell him to reheat the food for dinner.
“I figured we’d get started right away,” Arsen said, piling the food onto plates and sticking them into the microwave. “The missing girl is probably in the hands of The Blade, the serial killer who’s been hunting teenage girls in the area for the past several months. He’s killed a dozen already, and there are at least two in his custody, as far as we know. The police aren’t helping me, as per usual, but I’ve managed to get my hands on some crime scene photos. I figure it might help get into his mindset,” he said as he walked over to the living room to pull something out of a set of drawers sitting against the wall. It took Maya a second before she recognized the piece of furniture—his evidence cabinet. It was in their old home, once upon a time, and now it was here. It was a little disturbing, seeing reminders of their old life together, but Maya shrugged her shoulders up and down, trying to shake the weird feeling off. Every time you get anxious, he wins. Remember that, she said to herself, plastering on a fake smile as Arsen returned to the kitchen.
The microwave dinged a moment later, so Arsen set about getting the food ready before he put the plates down on the kitchen table, nodding at Maya to sit down before him. She chose the plate with less food, an old habit leftover from her childhood. Her mother always taught her to be nice, polite, and self-sacrificing. It was a hard habit to shake, even in her early thirties.
She’d barely gotten her fork into her mouth, tasting the mouth-watering flavor of Arse
n’s familiar cooking, when he spread out five pictures in front of her—five dead bodies, all mutilated beyond recognition. Maya swallowed her mouthful of food, even though now it felt like a rock tumbling down into her stomach, and placed her hands on the first picture, tugging it closer to get a better look.
The dead girl had long, thin cuts on her legs, like only the very tip of the knife was used, without digging deeper. They were so neat, so precise. He must have had the girl pinned down somehow, secured in place, so that she wouldn’t mess up his work by squirming around in pain. Maybe she was even sedated.
There was a hole in her chest, much messier, with clots of dried blood visible even in the photograph. Her heart…. The killer had taken her heart out. Maya swallowed thickly to clear the lump in her throat and blinked a few times, willing herself to keep going, to keep looking until she found something that really mattered. Maya’s eyes scanned over the picture, trying to find any detail that stood out to her as different or weird or special. It took her a few minutes before she saw it, and then it hit her all at once.